What does a chocolate banana look like in everyone’s imagination? I shouldn’t need to spell it out. The girl tiptoed over and snatched one up—

Seriously, if you’re so shy, why grab it at all? A few kids stood by the stall, utterly confused by this weird game. But when a high schooler suddenly joined them? Doesn’t that feel off?

Xiaomo braved the stares, snatched a chocolate banana—maybe she hadn’t even noticed the onlookers—and hurriedly paid before dashing toward me. I couldn’t fathom why she’d do this. She wasn’t the type to take pointless risks. Her pride couldn’t possibly be this thick.

“What happened to you? Any sane person would avoid this thing!”

“You’re just thinking dirty! It’s just a chocolate banana! Just food! Don’t twist it into something gross!”

Xiaomo’s logic left me speechless. Had I been the one overthinking things? If I’d seen it purely as food, none of this awkwardness would exist.

But would you actually eat it? I wasn’t *trying* to enjoy the show—but as the MC, I couldn’t refuse the author’s sudden urge to drive a plot train. Besides, I was curious—*ugh!* How could I have such filthy thoughts?!

“Why’d you suddenly want this… this delicious snack?”

I corrected myself instantly under Xiaomo’s glare. One wrong word, and her eyes would’ve murdered me.

“Back when I lived elsewhere… my family took me out often. That old man didn’t have much money then. He’d buy me stuff like this…” Her voice softened. “He’d stare at me weirdly while I ate… Still, I wish I could see him again…”

Unfamiliar sorrow flickered across Xiaomo’s face. Something felt wrong, but her words gripped me. A broke man taking his daughter out… must be her dad, right? Staring while she ate chocolate bananas like some pervert—*hell no!*

Impossible. Absolutely impossible. I shook my head hard, banishing the thought.

“Hey… you filthy-minded Hu Yuan,” Xiaomo smirked. “You totally imagined something gross just now. But I won’t blame you—it’s your nature. A creep suddenly turning noble? Unthinkable. Oh, and that story? Totally made up.”

*What the—?!* My face must’ve screamed rage. Xiaomo pounced.

“That fiery glare? I nailed it! You *were* fantasizing! Oh-ho-ho… My improv tricked you? Should I applaud my Oscar-worthy acting?”

Seriously, why aren’t you in Hollywood? Teen idols debut daily—you’d crush it.

“But you bought it and won’t eat it? Just… carrying it around? Embarrassing much?”

Let me be clear: I’m not saying this for the show. It’s about respecting food! Wasting it is tragic! I’m not perverted—I’m *not*—I swear on my threefold honor.

“…You… you jerk!”

Huh? Xiaomo slapped my shoulder, then struck a flustered pose. Her feet shuffled, face flushed—a flawless, first-class act of shyness.

My first instinct wasn’t to ask why. I scanned the crowd. Since we entered this food street, eyes had followed us.

I’m not paranoid—okay, maybe a little. (Why else confess to Mengxiang?) But I *feel* those zoo-panda stares.

“S-so… you want me to eat this giant banana… *here*? In front of everyone? Darling… you’re such a tease!”

“You insisted on buying it. Blame me now?” I hissed under my breath, voice low enough for only her ears.

“You eat it. Or you eat it. Or you *eat it*. Wasting food?” My sleep-deprived dead-fish eyes locked on hers. “I never forgive that.”

Years of all-nighters paid off. I was basically a street thug now. *Actually* a thug.

“You… don’t have to be so scary! This isn’t like you—”

Sweat beaded on Xiaomo’s forehead. I saw through her act: she’d staged this to force *me* to eat the banana. Not happening. Dig your own grave, fill it yourself.

“Clean up your own mess.”

Xiaomo crumpled. Her arms dropped limply. She lifted the chocolate banana to her face, cheeks blazing crimson—ears, neck, all burning red.

So Xiaomo *could* get this shy?

“D-do I… really have to eat it *here*…?”

She glanced around. Her impulsive stunt had drawn a crowd. Not a tight circle, but scattered stares from every direction—mortifying.

Watching her surrender thrilled me. Yet something felt off. Why did *I* seem like the villain forcing her? Probably just another act to embarrass me.

“I… I was wrong…”

She apologized. But why bother from the start? Just toss it! I wouldn’t hurt her. Unless… was this *still* acting?

“I…”

Xiaomo raised the chocolate banana with trembling hands. She gripped the stick, guiding the thick tip toward her parted lips. Eyes squeezed shut—making it ten times more suggestive. *Acting! Pure thoughts! Pure thoughts! Six bananas… six…*

Her lips parted. The chocolate-coated tip inched closer—about to plunge deep—